


Cupboard (Version 2.0)

by TeenySweeney



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-07 00:51:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1878804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeenySweeney/pseuds/TeenySweeney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The smutty version of the fic I titled 'Cupboard'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cupboard (Version 2.0)

"One kiss won't kill you~"

Russia is far too close. Germany doesn't like it. At least...well, he's pretty sure he doesn't like it. Even so, he hadn't been able to protest initially with Russia's gloved hand over his mouth as the cupboard door locked. Only now is he gathering the sense to say something.

"It could, actually, so let me--"

He makes to move and get  _out_  of the tiny storage room, but Russia holds him solidly back against the wall and Germany can't see him, but he thinks he might be smiling.

"If you genuinely don't want to, say so now."

He's definitely smiling. And Germany feels like Russia  _knows_  he can't answer that. He can't not know. What else would make him do this? Why else would he say that?

"Nothing to say? Nothing at all?"

Germany starts, coming back to his senses when he feels gloved fingers trailing along his jaw, automatically grabbing that hand, only to have his own pinned to the wall.

"Russia this isn't funny." He snaps, half-whispering.

Good God, if they were caught...

"It's not a joke." Russia replies matter-of-factly.

"What do you want from me?"Germany sighs. He wished he could see him.

"Just a kiss." Is the cheerful response.

_Hmm...sure._

"Nothing more?"

There is silence. If that tenacious grip wasn't still holding his hand up to the wall by his head, he would have considered the possibility that he had hallucinated the last few minutes. If anything, the grip on his hand had tightened. He can hear the ticking of his own watch as the seconds go by and the silence becomes stifling before Russia breaks it.

"What if there  _is_  more?" He asks softly.

Germany sighs again and goes still before he reaches out in the dark, drawing Russia towards him by the front of his jacket, consequences be damned. And they kiss. And it's fine. Only then it happens again. Then again, less chaste. And then Russia takes his hat and flings it somewhere else in the cupboard and he's going to have to find it but it's too dark and really there are more  _pressing_  matters at hand.

Like trying to stop Russia from un-gelling his hair or undoing his damn uniform but Russia isn't so easily deterred and, well, it's only the back of his hair so it's not  _so_  bad. Except that now, Germany has all but given up trying to fight the hand determinedly reaching for his buttons, and he  _swears_  to himself that it has nothing to do with the fact that the kissing has moved from his mouth, along the line of his jaw and down to his neck (and thank  _God_  the collar on his uniform is high because he never wants to have to explain the marks that he knows will be there.) The problem is that it's stuffy and his uniform is too hot and it's a relief to have the cool material of Russia's gloves running along his sides.

And there's not enough space between them for him to get at Russia's uniform. That's not to say he hasn't tried, only Russia has him pinned with the weight of his body rather than his hands, so Germany winds his hands into his hair instead. He swears he doesn't mean to pull, but he pulls, and Russia digs his nails, short though they are, into his skin with some force in retaliation. Germany tries to make a sound that has some semblance of protest in it, but what actually comes out is most certainly  _not_  a noise of protest. His genuine protest finally comes when Russia's hands veer a little too low, so he grabs them and pushes Russia backwards a little.

"Don't get me wrong, but I'm not going to have sex with you in a cupboard..." He murmurs.

He's so glad it's dark. He can feel his cheeks burning just saying that and  _why is he doing this_?

"Of course not, silly." Russia chuckles. " _That_  would be far too risky."

The emphasis on 'that' does nothing to ease Germany's pounding heart as he slowly allows Russia to get close again.

"What do you have planned, Russland?" 

"Nothing I don't think you'd like." Russia assures him cheerfully, settling his hands on Germany's hips.

Then his mouth returns to Germany's neck with renewed keenness and Germany has to bite his lip. He squeezes his eyes shut and tilts his head back against the wall, his hands going back to Russia's hair. Russia's lips are almost at his stomach and he has dropped to his knees when Germany finally speaks again, only half-conscious of his own words.

"Please don't..."

And, to his credit, Russia pauses, although his mouth still rests against Germany's skin.

"Do you mean that?"

He wants to. He  _desperately_ wants to mean it, but he's in no state to attempt to lie, so he shakes his head, making a noise to indicate that no, he doesn't mean it, and Russia continues, teeth and tongue joining his lips on his skin. One particularly spiteful nip just above his hipbone makes Germany let out a half-stifled yelp of surprise and Russia chuckles. Germany considers giving a sharp tug on his hair in retaliation, but worries too much about the potential consequences of that are to do it.

"You're sure?" Russia asks as he tugs at Germany's belt to get it to come undone.

It takes Germany a couple of seconds to catch up and when he does, his trousers are already halfway down his thighs.

"Yes, I'm sure, just get on with it."

"If it makes you feel better, I'll buy you a drink later." Russia promises from the floor as he tugs Germany's boxers down and lifts one of his legs over his shoulder.

"You'd better. It's the least you can--" Germany covers his mouth as if surprised at the feeling of Russia's tongue on his dick and he feels like an idiot.

What else was he expecting, really? Somehow he's still surprised when Russia takes him into his mouth, but he relaxes slowly, biting his own knuckle a little to stifle any noise that might leave him and half-listening out for anybody walking by. Half-listening is turning into not caring, though, because Russia won't stop  _touching him_ , no matter how much he tries to grab his hands to stop him because they need to be careful; Russia doesn't seem to care. Germany is beginning to wonder if 'careful' is a word in his vocabulary as now-bare and cold hands grab at his ass, fingers threatening to dip between his cheeks, but he just knows he won't be able to keep so quiet if Russia does that.

"Russland...n-nein..." He breathes out, shaking his head although Russia can't possibly see it and tugging at his hair lightly.

Russia makes a little, reluctant sound around him, but does move his hands away, instead running them leisurely over his thighs and his torso. Germany still lets out a pleased hum that turns into a whine when Russia drags his nails down Germany's chest, making his toes curl in his boots a little, inhaling sharply. He's steadily growing short of breath and he can feel his skin burning.and his heart pounding and  _oh god is that footsteps?_ Russia doesn't even pause to listen. If anything, his enthusiasm doubles and Germany gets the feeling that it's a deliberate move on his part, but doesn't dare to try and stop him. At this point, he'd rather take the risk and  _oh_ , it is definitely worth it for the way Russia drags his tongue along his shaft, pulling back just enough to speak to Germany, his hand taking over for the moment.

"How is it Germaniya?" He murmurs teasingly.

"Shut up..." Germany groans under his breath.

"Was I right? Do you like it?" He continues, giving Germany a firm squeeze that takes his breath away.

"Russia,  _please_ \--"

"It's only a question." 

Germany huffs softly, gasping immediately afterwards at a tight-handed, tortuously slow stroke along his length.

"Alright, it's good, okay, it's  _great_ , please--just... _please_..."

Then Russia's mouth, much to his relief, is back on him. Germany's hands tighten in his hair when Russia moves down, as close to the base as he can get, teasing him with little movements of his tongue and he grits his teeth, panting, willing himself not to thrust into Russia's mouth, but it's  _so good._

"Russland...I-Ivan..."

Russia hums approvingly, pulling back a little and this time Germany  _does_  thrust into his mouth a little, but Russia doesn't seem to mind.

"'Just a kiss' he says - you piece of shit--"

He gasps audibly - a noise that makes him cover his mouth again - at the slightest touch of teeth on his skin when Russia smirks around him, resulting in a sharp tug on his hair that actually draws a sound out of him, much to Germany's pleasure. He expects some kind of retaliation, but Russia just picks up the pace and Germany lets out a sound that is definitely  _not_  a whimper, biting his lip. At this point he can't avoid thrusting into Russia's mouth, but Russia could stop him if he wanted. Instead he lets him continue and Germany can feel his stomach tensing, muffling his groans against his sleeve and squeezing his eyes shut as he comes, murmuring 'Ivan' breathlessly.

The guilt starts setting in as Russia is slowing to a stop. He regrets it already - that should not have happened. He let's go of Russia's hair and puts his face in his hands while Russia takes the task of re-dressing him from the waist down.

"I think it's too late to be having second thoughts now." Russia chuckles, smoothing Germany's hair down as if he can read his mind.

Without thinking, Germany raises his head and, with lucky guesswork as to where he is, slaps Russia across the face - he's not angry enough to punch him.

" _Never_  do that again." He hisses venomously, doing the top half of his uniform up. "If we had been caught, Iva-- _Russland--_ do you have any idea--I hate you so much--"

Russia has gone from stunned silence to laughing as Germany berates him, then shushing him, putting a finger to his lips. His gloves are back on. 

"We weren't caught. And you liked it. You don't hate me at all." He says soothingly, moving away from him again. 

Germany huffs and takes a moment to collect himself, straightening his uniform, ducking his head a little when Russia places his hat back on his head.

"I'll see you later." Russia smiles at him as he opens the door. He still looks impeccably smart and Germany seethes at that. "I owe you a drink, don't forget."

And then he leaves, letting the door shut behind him and leaving Germany to wonder how he's going to get out of this mess. 


End file.
